For the industry to keep growing, customers must like this year’s designs, but they must also become dissatisfied with them, so that they’ll buy next year’s
It’s really funny to read the discussion boards of Spain-related facebook groups. Since facebook isn’t very popular in Spain (actually is not popular at all), most of them are created by ex-Erasmus or Spanish immigrants. You can also find super cool groups like Estrella Galicia appreciation society and I’m not an alcoholic, I’m Gallego :p. But the last jewel I’ve found is the group You know you’ve lived in Spain when…:
You think adding lemonade, fanta or even coke to red wine is perfectly acceptable. Especially at lunch time.
Not giving every new acquaintance dos besos seems so rude.
You think the precious aceite is a vital part of every meal. And don’t understand how anyone could think olive oil on toast is weird.
A bull’s head on the wall of a bar isn’t a talking point for you, it’s just a part of the decor.
On a Sunday morning, you have breakfast before going to bed, not after you get up.
You don’t see anything wrong with having a couple of beers in the morning if you feel like it.
Someone rings your door bell at 5am and says Are you coming out?. You go out thinking yeah, why not, give me 2 minutes
Kind of the same happen when you a Spanish guy living abroad, or even if you have been living in Sweden and most of your friends were Spaniards. So I’d appreciate something in the comments from you my fellows, if any of you are still reading this…
Update: lovely group You know you’ve been in Sweden too long when…
The first thing you do on entering a bank/post office/pharmacy etc. is look for the queue number machine and you accept that you will have to queue to take a queue number.
Your front door step is beginning to resemble a shoe shop.
It no longer seems excessive to spend $200 on alcohol in a single night.
An outside temperature of 9 degrees Celsius is mild.
You have only two facial expressions, smiling or blank.
You get extremely annoyed when the bus is two minutes late.
When a stranger asks you a question in the streets, you think it’s normal to just keep walking, saying nothing.
Your wardrobe now consists of 20 different shades of black and grey.
Buscando si percebe en gallego se escribía con b o con v (es percebe, por cierto. Perceve es en portugués), me encontré con este blog de un británico afincado en Pontevedra, Colin Davies. Además de sus comentarios acerca de costumbres gallegas, nuestro curioso clima o notas acerca de como va su tierra patria, tiene la bonita costumbre de leerse unos cuantos periódicos cada día y comentar las noticias. Bonita manera de verlas desde otro punto de vista. Y como muestra un botón:
I read the Voz in a café on the way back from the airport, when taking a 10.45 coffee. The three men on my left at the bar ordered brandies but the wimp on my right could only manage a glass of Rioja. Of course, all the former were served in quantities 3 to 5 times larger than the standard British measure. I can’t help but wonder if there could be any link between this sort of breakfast and the road death statistics.
Obviamente, todo está en inglés.
Guys!, nice blog and web about Galicia written by a British who lives here (In Pontevedra, to be precise). It’s worth reading it (and it’s written in English)
Despues de 10 días seguidos borracho estoy de vuelta en casa. Huesca una locura, sobre todo el chupinazo. Y unos buenos conciertos en Paredes, aunque lloviese…
After 10 days getting drunk in a row, I’m back at home. Crazy times in Huesca, specially the chupinazo… and some nice concerts at Paredes de Coura even though it was raining on tuesday. Btw, some things I have to say: